


Cross-pollination

by snakeling



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Plot What Plot, Sex Pollen, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-08
Updated: 2008-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeling/pseuds/snakeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working at Torchwood is not without danger. Or perks. And sometimes, they're the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross-pollination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceresi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ceresi).



Ianto cursed his predecessors, who’d left such a mess in the archives. Cautiously, he slid the box forward, hoping that nothing would come down with it.

Yes. He was nearly there. With a last tug, the box went free. He tilted it to pull it down, and only too late saw the glass jar that had been set precariously on the lid.

The _full_ glass jar.

It fell down, narrowly missing Ianto’s head, and shattered on the floor, its content rising in a big green cloud that made Ianto sneeze.

He remained paralysed for a few seconds before adrenaline sent him down his ladder to the big red emergency button on the wall near the door. He pushed it, sending his part of the archives into lockdown. As the main lights turned off and were replaced by red lights, Ianto cursed whomever had conceived the system and he blinked to get his eyes to adapt to the new luminosity.

Less than a second later, his headset crackled to life.

“Ianto? What’s going on?”

“I’ve been compromised.” He waited for the cloud to settle before heading back to try and find the shards of the jar. Hopefully one still held the label.

Hopefully the jar had been labelled in the first place.

“A jar fell off and exploded. I’m not sure what it contained. Something green and very fine, some sort of powder.”

Ianto could hear the uncertainty and the fear in his voice, and Jack picked on it easily.

“Let’s not panic before we’re sure it’s worth panicking about.” Ianto smiled weakly as Jack continued, “Can you get any more information?”

“I’m looking for the label right now.”

“All right. I have Tosh searching the database for info. Let me know as soon as you find out more.”

Ianto nodded, then realised that Jack couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

Some of the fragments had ended up rather far from the point of impact. Others had slid under the furniture. It would stand to reason that the one still holding the label had done both. But Ianto was nothing if not methodical. He eventually found it.

He was feeling a bit hot by now, enough to remove his jacket and loosen his tie.

“Jack? This says Krestaarian pollen and nothing else.”

“Okay. Tosh is looking it up right now.”

“Thanks. One K, two As, by the way.”

“All righ— Oh, fuck!”

Ianto’s heart lurched in his throat. “What is it? Jack?”

“Just a Weevil alert. It’s _so_ not the time! Wait a sec.”

Ianto heard Jack yell for Gwen, both muffled and very loud. He guessed Jack must be shielding the microphone somehow — and doing a piss-poor job of it.

“Gwen! There’s a couple of Weevils loose in Bute Park. Get —” He paused for a couple of seconds. “Get Owen with you.”

Ianto heard Owen arguing, but he wasn’t close enough to Jack for the comms to pick it up clearly.

“He’s not in danger! I recognise this stuff; it’s harmless,” Jack said, probably in answer to Owen. He must have protested that Ianto might need his medical skills, then.

Ianto felt obliged to speak up. “Jack? Are you sure it’s harmless? I’m feeling quite hot.” He took off his tie and popped open the top two buttons of his shirt.

“That’s normal, don’t worry. Go with Gwen, Owen. I promise he’ll be all right.”

Distantly, Ianto heard the alarm and the cog door, and assumed Owen must have obeyed at last.

“Jack? What’s Krestaarian pollen, then?”

“Um. Go to the containment cell on your level; I’m coming down to explain. Tosh, in case this thing was mislabelled, you know the procedure. Keep an eye on the CCTV, please.”

Tosh said something, too low for Ianto to understand, but Jack chuckled and only said, “Cheeky!” in a mock-reprimanding tone.

Ianto started towards the containment cell. He was almost there when the main lights returned for a few seconds. He stopped, unsure. His brain felt sluggish, and he had to focus to get a coherent sentence out.

“Jack? What happened?”

“I had to interrupt lockdown to get to your level.” He continued to talk, but Ianto was having difficulties concentrating on the words, so he simply let his voice wash over him, comfortable and familiar and oh so very sexy.

The heat was smothering, starting deep inside his belly and spreading to his endings like fire. He opened his shirt completely, shrugging it to the floor and for once not caring what happened to it.

Ianto entered the containment cell, pausing in the airlock until the outer door had sealed, then walking inside the cell itself. It was large, the walls and floor covered in ugly pale green tiles. A projection of the wall made a seat or a bed as needed.

Ianto sat down. The cool tile did nothing for the heat he was feeling. Uncomfortable, Ianto rubbed his chest, trying to breathe more easily. His fingers caught a nipple and sensation shot through him. His trousers were growing decidedly tight.

Jack entered the cell, looking strangely apologetic. He started to say something, but Ianto couldn’t hear it over the roar that filled his ears and mind.

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Ianto was on his feet, backing Jack up against the wall, trying to get rid of his clothes, even as he was plastered against his body. The complexity of braces, belt, shirt and tee thwarted him, though, and he growled, tugging hard at the buttons with no results.

Jack cupped his face, forcing them apart. Ianto narrowed his eyes at him, frustrated with the delays.

“Ianto, you’re under the influence of the pollen.” His tone was calm and reasonable, as if Ianto were five. “This is not your normal behaviour. You should —”

Ianto growled. “Who cares?”

He’d at last managed to open Jack’s belt. He lowered the fly quickly and plunged his hand inside, finding that despite his protests, Jack wasn’t uninterested in the proceedings. Not that Ianto had seriously expected him to.

He pumped Jack’s cock roughly, hampered by the clothes and awkward position. Jack sighed in resignation and started to take his clothes off.

“Yes!” Ianto’s voice was low and rough. He kissed Jack again, using lips and tongue and teeth to make sure that he left visible traces of Jack’s unavailability on his face. If he could have put a collar on him, he would have.

In fact, the idea held an undeniable appeal, momentarily distracting Ianto. He smiled in anticipation, pleased when Jack’s eyes went round with surprise and, he fancied, approval.

Ianto lifted Jack’s tee and took it off, tangling it in the shirt that Jack hadn’t had time to shrug off. He pinched a nipple to make sure he had Jack’s attention.

“I’m going to suck you until you come down my throat, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” He twisted his fingers, drawing a gasp and a moan from Jack. “Any objections?”

There wouldn’t be any. Ianto had never known Jack to refuse his plans, especially when they were as straightforward as this.

Jack didn’t answer right away, though. He already seemed to have difficulties breathing. “No, no objections at all,” he finally said. “I approve completely.”

Ianto smiled and dropped to his knees. Jack’s trousers were half-hanging from his hips, framing his rather impressive cock.

Normally, Ianto would drag things out, draw Jack wild. He knew exactly what to do, which buttons to push, and he loved watching Jack come undone, layer after layer peeling away to reveal the core of the man.

But today, Ianto didn’t care about such things. All he wanted was to get off, and because he was a well-mannered lover, to get Jack off.

He yanked Jack’s trousers down, so suddenly that Jack nearly toppled over and had to catch the nearest support, namely Ianto’s head.

Ianto locked his hands behind Jack’s knees for additional support, then leaned over and took Jack’s cock in his mouth. He alternated strong suction and light, almost imperceptible dragging of teeth along the shaft. Above him, Jack was breathing heavily, in gasps and sighs. His fingers were tangled in Ianto’s short hair.

Oh yes, he was close already. One of Ianto’s hands released the knee it was holding in order to search inside one of Jack’s back trouser pockets, spilling half a dozen foil packets on the ground.

Ianto chose one with shifting contents rather than a semi-rigid ring, and hoped he wasn’t mistaken. He tore it open, spreading the lube on his fingers. It was already body-temperature, thanks to spending the whole day against Jack’s arse, so there was no need for additional preparations.

Ianto pushed two fingers inside Jack. With a skill born of practice, they found the slight bump inside and pressed quite firmly on it. That pulled a garbled-up cry out of Jack that might have been Ianto’s name.

He kept the pressure on Jack’s prostate while drawing his cock more deeply inside his mouth. Jack’s hand was now gripping convulsively at his hair, pulling on it. The small pain wasn’t enough for his fevered brain to register as anything but yet another stimulation, another source of pleasure.

The cock in his mouth swelled, the body under his hands tensed, and Ianto knew Jack was about to come, mere minutes after they’d started. He sucked stronger, his throat swallowing convulsively the too copious come, for once not caring at all about the taste or the risks of choking.

Jack slumped, mostly held in place by Ianto’s hands and mouth. He was breathing hard and his legs were shaking slightly.

“Jesus, Ianto . . .”

Ianto looked up. Jack looked dazed, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and dripping down his chest.

Slowly, Ianto released Jack’s mostly soft cock and slid his fingers out of his arse, drawing a rather weak “Don’t!” from Jack. Ianto helped Jack down onto the bench, taking off the rest of his clothes and arranging his limbs to his satisfaction. Jack let himself be manipulated meekly, a sure sign that Ianto was well on his way to exhaust him.

The packet of lube Ianto had opened earlier was lost in the heap of clothes on the floor so Ianto simply used whatever he’d left on his fingers to slick his cock. It wasn’t a lot, but Jack was so relaxed that it was unlikely to matter.

He draped one of Jack’s legs over his shoulder and pushed slowly inside his arse, feeling the flesh part and give, gripping him tightly until he thought he might not resist the urge and come too soon.

Ianto gritted his teeth, ignoring the heat welling up inside him, and pulled out even more slowly, ignoring Jack’s efforts to stop him. Not that they were all that efficient, as he had no leverage in the position he was in.

When he was almost entirely out, he paused and tried to regulate his breathing. It didn’t work. If anything, the confusion in his mind increased. Ianto felt hotter and hotter, his control slipping off until he felt he only had one option left. He slammed hard inside Jack, his thrusts less controlled and wilder than usual. Jack didn’t seem to mind, clutching at whatever part of Ianto he could reach.

He bent forward, folding Jack in half, trying to reach his mouth and growling in frustration when he realised that Jack’s wasn’t flexible enough. Jack reached up blindly and Ianto caught two fingers in his mouth, sucking hard on them. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do.

Another wave of heat washed over Ianto, making him falter in his thrusts. His perception narrowed until it only encompassed Jack and him, until the only thing in his mind was his need to come.

Ianto’s arousal rose within him, as irrepressible and powerful as a tidal wave. He thrust shallowly a couple more times, then his body seized and his cock pulsed his release deep inside Jack.

He seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, and air remained blocked in his throat, escaping in hard gasps until Ianto thought he might pass out. He clutched at the calf on his shoulder, half-listening to Jack’s gentle words reminding him how to breathe.

Gradually, Ianto calmed down. His respiration returned to normal and the heat lessened, making Ianto break in cold sweat. Jack rearranged them until he was sprawled over Ianto like a human blanket.

Now that Ianto was capable of cognitive reasoning again, he had questions.

“Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“What the hell was that? You’re not normally so irresistible that I have to jump you at work.”

There was a pause, then Jack said, “I think I’m wounded.” Ianto pinched him. “Ow! All right, all right. Krestaarian pollen is used during fertility festivals to draw participants into a suitable frenzy.”

Ianto unravelled the sentence in his mind. “It’s . . . sex pollen?”

“Yep.”

“You’re joking.” Ianto’s tone was flat.

“Nope.”

Ianto could hear the widening grin in Jack’s answers. He groaned, letting his head fall back and wincing when it connected with the hard bench.

“I’m living a fucking cliché.”

“Literally.”

Jack was laughing, so Ianto punched him, somewhat ineffectually, as he was still pinned under him.

Something else occurred to him. His head jerked up, nearly clocking Jack in the chin.

“Wait a minute! You told Tosh to keep an eye on the CCTV!”

Jack grinned. “Yep. Say hello to Tosh, Ianto.” He waggled his fingers at the camera tucked in a corner. Ianto turned horrified eyes at him. “Did you like the show?” Jack asked at the camera.

“One of the best I’ve been privileged to see.” Tosh’s disembodied voice came out of a hidden speaker. It was breathless, as if she’d just run a marathon — or wanked in front of the monitor. Ianto hid his burning face with an arm, not at all sure he wanted to come out of the room, ever.

Jack said, “Save me a copy of the CCTV record, will you?”

“Done already.”

Ianto, suddenly seeing the humour of the situation, laughed and pulled Jack for a kiss that lasted minutes.

Without looking away from Ianto, Jack added, “Keep a copy for yourself, too.”

“Waste not, want not,” Tosh said cheerfully.

Ianto realised that, now the moment of surprise had passed, he quite liked the idea of having an audience. Or even more than that. He smiled at Jack. Without looking away from him, he asked, “Tosh, have you ever wanted to direct your very own porn movie?”

“Direct — oh. Oh. Well, actually, there is one thing I’ve always wanted to see you two do . . .”

“Oh, I like the way you think, Ianto Jones,” Jack whispered, already nipping at Ianto’s lower lip.

Ianto pushed him away gently and turned his head towards the camera. Looking directly at it, he said, “Tell us.”


End file.
